


Afternoon Dreams, Drinking and Driving

by orphan_account



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, YakuzaAU!, characters are much older (25 range), polyamorous relationship!!!, ratings are tentative
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 05:24:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6740083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nash Gold Jr. is back in the land of monkeys and he's not an inch happy that his life's in the hands of a midget he once played against in a basketball game nearly a decade ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> repetitive but need to show just in case u didn't read the tags:  
> 1) tags will be updated in case of trigger stuff. if there is stuff like that, i'll have forewarning in beginning of the chapter containing trigger stuff  
> 2)rating might be as well, whenever i figure out where this fic is really going. rest assured, akashi is to come.  
> 3)POLYAMOROUS RELATIONSHIP (hence the aka/kuro/nash tag)

Nash Gold Junior sat in his sleek black car watching the kids file out of the daycare with their parents. He waited until they all disappeared before getting out of the vehicle and entering the building, only to silently stand by the classroom door as Kuroko and his co-worker tidied up the place. The lady finally noticed Nash when she turned around to reach for some papers on the desk.

“Kuroko-san,” she said, nudging his shoulder. “I think you have a guest.”

Her eyes flitted over to Nash who was decked out in a black suit and tie. Kuroko glanced behind with unconcern and held two fingers up. “I’ll be done in two minutes, Gold-kun.”

The lady blinked at the foreign name, too busy trying to understand Nash’s name and deconstruct his appearance.

Nash left the door and stood out in the hallway with a scowl. _That fucking monkey_.

Two minutes later, Kuroko was still in the room and his co-worker had already left. Nash ignored the way she curiously snuck peeks at him. He didn’t bother to catch her gaze and stare her down into unease because god knows what Kuroko would say to him about trying to be nice and civil.

“All done,” Kuroko said while shutting the classroom door. “Thanks for waiting, Gold-kun. Oh and nice suit.”

Nash was already walking to the exit. “Getting the suit was a hassle and I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

Kuroko didn’t bother repressing the tiny smile he felt growing on his lips. “Yes, but what else could I call you in public?”

“Nash.”

“But I couldn’t,” Kuroko countered, no sign of taunting in his voice. He was genuine about this part. “After all, we’re not that familiar with each other.”

Kuroko locked up the building. He had his back turned to Nash, who was currently inspecting the empty environment, and said, “Maybe one day I’ll get to call you by your first name if you let me, Gold-kun.”

Nash pushed Kuroko in front of him and kept his distance a few footsteps behind. “Shut up and get into the car already.”

Kuroko yanked his door open. He stopped to look up at his towering bodyguard. “Really though, Gold-kun, I meant it. Give me your trust and I’ll call you Nash. Names and trust is an important thing, like a pact. Isn’t it essential for a master and his bodyguard to have firm trust in each other?”

Nash’s face was calm and bored, as if he wasn’t finding any of Kuroko’s talk insightful. A silence came between them until Nash breeched it. “My life’s already in your hands. What more do you need from me?”

“Like I said, Gold-kun,” Kuroko said as he slid into his seat. “Trust.”

“How unfortunate,” Nash retorted. He greeted Kuroko with a cold and careless smile. “I don’t give a fuck about trust.”

The door slammed shut and soon the driver’s door was opening and closing. Nash revved the engine to life and pulled onto the local streets. “All you need to do is let me do my job and we’re good. Got it?”

He flashed Kuroko a look through the mirror.

“All in due time, Gold-kun; Fate’s already spinning her threads. Ironic, isn't it? Who's standing over whom now? Eventually, you’ll come to me.”

“Shut up,” Nash said. He placed a cigarette to his lips and burnt the tip. Seconds later, a stream of smoke fumed from his mouth, obstructing his face from Kuroko. “You fucking monkeys and your superiority issues. Fuck that shit.”

Kuroko usually didn’t let Nash smoke in the car, but this time, he decided to let it slide. He’d let Nash keep what he could still have, cigarettes and alcohol. He’d let Nash indulge in what was left of his pride, and then, he’d smother the embers dead.

Reality check: Nash wasn’t in the States anymore. Kuroko would be sure to drill that into Nash’s head, unless he wanted to die from his pursuers or anyone he ticked off in Japan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't fully realize what i was getting myself into lol.  
> multi-chapter fics ya know.

The next morning, Kuroko and Nash prepared to set off to Tokyo where Kuroko’s parents lived. Nash had already started down the stairs while Kuroko locked up his apartment. It was early enough to hear the crickets still chirping and Nash kicked at the grass in an irritated yet poor attempt to get them to shut up. He got dew and stray blades of dead yellow grass on his shoes, making Kuroko tell him to clean his shoes so as to not dirty the car.

“Doesn’t matter,” Nash said. He unlocked the car but before he could enter, Kuroko held a hand out expectantly. He eyed the keys and Nash stared at him as if he was stupid.

“Monkeys can’t drive,” said Nash. He tapped the side of his eyes and squinted them.

Kuroko wasn’t in the mood for Nash’s insults. “A foreigner like you would get us lost.”

Nash shrugged. “Hey, I picked you up at the daycare, didn’t I? I can get us from the countryside to Tokyo.”

Kuroko relented, thinking that Nash was probably worse than Aomine’s bickering, and strode to the backseat. “Very well, then, _Gold-kun_. Please get us to Tokyo on time.”

Nash watched him close the door, growing content with upsetting Kuroko, before he slid into his chair and hit the road. Kuroko remained quiet until they merged onto the highway, which was pretty much a long stretch of smooth pavement surrounded by paddy fields on both sides.

“Why won’t you let me drive?” Kuroko asked.

He saw Nash’s hand wave in the air as if to say ‘Don’t you get it?’ Kuroko rapped his fist against the back of Nash’s seat.

“You didn’t get the memo? Monkeys don’t drive.”

“And who are the monkeys?”

Nash twirled a finger in a circular motion. “All of you.”

“Or is it that you want to hog the car to yourself?”

“I can appreciate a good car when I see one. I’ll admit this one’s not too shabby. Boss has good taste.”

“I don’t believe either of your reasons,” Kuroko said.

“Ooooh so scary,” Nash feinted. Kuroko could see his fingers wiggling around the steering wheel as extra emphasis. At least Nash had the decency not to take his hands off the wheel.

“By the way, your Japanese isn’t as horrible as I thought it would be.”

“Should I be very ecstatic to hear this from you or what?” Nash glanced at him through the mirror, a sarcastic look pasted right onto his face.

Kuroko suppressed a sigh and shifted his attention to the window. “It wasn’t a praise or a putdown, Gold-kun. I was merely commenting.”

They didn’t talk for the rest of the ride because talking to Nash was like drinking sour milk. It worked in Nash’s favor anyways, considering his preference for silence.

 … 

“Welcome back, young master,” a group of yakuza members greeted. They acknowledged Nash’s presence with a glance and Nash responded with a curt nod.

Nash and Kuroko were led into the house where the Boss and his wife awaited. Kuroko could hear a kettle whistling from the kitchen and the scraping of a wooden chair against the ground.

The kitchen was visible from the little comfy region designated as the dining room. When Kuroko passed the threshold, his mother had just finished pouring tea into cups placed on a tray. She looked up at him with a smile.

“Tetsuya,” she said warmly, wiping her hands on her apron. She shuffled over to pull him into a hug. Nash stepped out from the hallway into her vision, still lingering outside the dining room's entrance.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Nash,” she said, giving him a smile.

He gave her a nod and a short greeting. Kuroko stood on the sidelines observing. There was a flicker of wariness in Nash’s eyes but Kuroko looked away before Nash could catch him and headed over to the table where his father sat.

The boss looked up from his newspapers and folded them in half. He leaned back as a cup of tea was placed in front of him. “And how are you doing, Tetsuya?”

Kuroko curled his hands around his cup, absorbing the heat. He watched the steam swirl into the air. “Pretty good. Well, I was.”

The boss looked at Nash and Kuroko, who hadn’t interacted with each other since their arrival, and laughed. “Of course.”

Kuroko’s mother said something to Nash and they left the room. Kuroko couldn’t help but watch them disappear. He wondered what it was his mother had said because Nash’s posture relaxed. Something that Nash rarely did in his presence.

“Curious?” said the boss. 

Kuroko refocused on his father. He wished he didn’t notice the way his father stared at him knowingly and he wished he wasn’t so transparent in front of his father. Regardless, he opted for partial truth. “Kind of.”

The boss took a sip from his tea. “He’s yours for the keeping, Tetsuya. Make good use of him.”

Kuroko frowned at those words. This, this was why he didn’t want to get involved with this side of the world. “He’s not mine. I don’t own him.”

Kuroko spotted the smile forming behind his father’s cup and glanced down at his own drink. He could never own a human. He could never do the things his father did. 

“You’ll understand what I mean one day, Tetsuya.”

“Why didn’t you just keep him? Why give him to me?”

“I have enough of my own.”

Kuroko was sickened with the idea of people as property. Why take in people as a way to boost personal arsenal?  

“There are much more things you have to learn,” the boss said. “That’s why I gave him to you and from the looks of it, you haven’t progressed.” 

“What am I supposed to do with him?” Kuroko asked, bewildered. Why was he being assessed? He wanted nothing to do with yakuza business. He was willing to attend meetings and hear out events but he would never step into that world.

The boss tapped his temple. “Reflect upon yourself, Tetsuya. Find the faults. Correct yourself. Rewire your thinking.” 

Kuroko didn’t make a response. He wasn’t capable of one. He was too busy trying to wrap these words around his mind, trying to find where he had gone wrong, where he could apply these words.

His father’s sudden laughter startled him. “Don’t give yourself a headache by overthinking, Tetsuya.”

A frown found its way to his mouth when his father patted his hair. He always did this when Kuroko visited and he always did it when he found Kuroko funny. Kuroko’s frown deepened at his father’s next words. “You really have to tame that bed hair, Tetsuya.”

Kuroko slumped in his chair. He was definitely being treated like a child.

“I have a meeting in a bit, so I’ll leave you with something to ponder about.” The boss gathered his papers. “If the dog bites the hand of its owner, what does that say about the owner?”

“What if the dog’s naturally a biter?” Kuroko countered. Thank god Nigou was a friendly pup.

His father pushed in his chair, newspaper tucked under his arms, and said, “Then wouldn’t it be owner’s duty to soften up the dog?”

He walked to the door and added, “Unless the owner doesn’t care for his dog. Then I’d understand.”

Kuroko sat alone with a nasty aftertaste in his mouth. He wasn’t delusional enough to blame it on his mother’s tea and he knew he’d be causing himself all the more trouble by ignoring his father’s advice. The thought of Nash as a dog made him scoff but the thought of himself as a negligent owner? He would surely hate himself or maybe it had already begun? This disgusting aftertaste he felt was evidence.

He headed to his bedroom, hoping to leave before Nash and his mother could return. In all honesty, he really didn’t want to see Nash right now.

 …

When Kuroko woke up, it was already late into the evening. There was a note on his desk from his mother: _saved your share in the fridge_. He rubbed his sleepy eyes, feeling his stomach grumble, and left his room. The hallway was unlit but he could see the faint glow of light coming from the common room’s direction.

The shoji doors were drawn aside, letting in a draft of cold air. Kuroko decided to make a detour in his journey to the kitchen. He could smell smoke. That meant Nash, which would explain the shadowy figure projected on the shoji door.

“Please close the door next time,” Kuroko said as he stepped outside. The wooden floor was cold but the summer night air was musty, verging onto humid.

Nash was sitting on the floor, still wearing his jeans, but he had switched into a loose tank top. A cigarette hung from his lips. He turned around to look at Kuroko. “And what if I don’t?”

“Don’t blame me if a mosquito infects you.”

Nash waved it off with an unperturbed expression. “Bullshit. I’ve survived worse.”

“If you say so, Gold-kun.”

After exhaling a cloud of smoke, Nash coolly responded, “Y’know, you’re really annoying. Jason should’ve entirely crushed you back then. Maybe a kick to the throat would’ve done your mouth some good, yeah?”

“He could’ve,” Kuroko said. He closed in on Nash and reached for the cigarette. Nash, having already predicted that, pulled it away and stood up. At six foot three, he definitely towered over Kuroko and so did his cigarette when he lifted it up in the air over their heads and waited.

Kuroko dropped his hand and merely stared at Nash.

“Stare me down all you want,” Nash finally said. “Nothing’s going to change.”

“I was just thinking how unfortunate your life would’ve been if I couldn’t speak on your behalf, Gold-kun. After all, you’re here today because I have a voice. You don’t.”

Kuroko didn’t even blink when Nash shoved his face close to Kuroko’s. A cold hand crept around Kuroko’s throat, fingernails pressing into the side of his neck. Nash brought his cigarette to his lips, sucked, and puffed smoke into Kuroko’s face.

“Just the sight of you makes me want to kill you.”

“You won’t kill someone you need.”

“Of course,” Nash said, matter-of-fact. “Once this is all cleaned up, then I’ll kill you.” 

“It’s terrible what pride does to a man, isn’t it? You wouldn’t even shed a tear at the thought of killing the person who helped you.”

“I don’t know gratitude. You’re just a way to scrape by. Don’t even think I’ll soften up to you just because we played against each other once.”

Kuroko nodded and pried Nash’s fingers away from his throat. “I’m glad you understand. I never liked you, especially back then.”

He left for the kitchen without another word and Nash hoped that Kuroko could feel the glare burning into his back. Nash tapped the ashes off his cigarette. That Kuroko really was a pain in the ass. 

“What a dumbass,” Nash muttered as he watched the flames from his lighter flicker. To think his team had lost to monkeys, it really was infuriating. He should’ve destroyed the Vorpal Swords with full force right from the get-go.


	3. Chapter 3

Nash instantly woke up to the feeling of something coming onto him. The first thing he spotted was a hand too close for comfort and the first thing he did was grab the person’s wrist and twist it before he pulled out his switchblade, pressing it against the person’s neck.

The screams and laughter from his dream still echoed fresh in his mind.

“Good afternoon, Nash,” Kuroko’s mother said, caution laced underneath her tone.

Nash assessed the situation. In her hand was a blanket. On his body was the blanket. At her neck was his blade, which he soon removed. He let go of her wrist and she let go of the blanket.

“I apologize for waking you, Nash.”

He shrugged off the blanket as he got off the couch and looked around. She continued, “You fell asleep out here. I thought I’d give you a blanket.”

Nash found himself looking at her wrist again. “You should find some ointment for that.”

She touched her wrist gently. “It’ll heal. The worst is bruises and swelling.” 

“Kuroko?” Nash asked.

“He’s out meeting a friend. He said he’d be back later tonight,” she said. “Why don’t you go wash up and I’ll get some food ready for you?”

On the way to the bathroom, Nash checked the time and discovered that it was already afternoon. He spent most of the day dreaming about driving down the Interstate 405 highway in LA. He could smell smoke in his dreams. Was it the smoke from the burning of some unidentifiable person or was it the cigarette in his hand? A mixture of the two most likely. He remembered picking up his phone as he drove back to one of the group’s bases in Little Tokyo and being greeted with her screams mixed with the furious demands of his Uncle. The entire conversation was in Japanese save for the occasional insults in English.

…

“Yo, Tetsu,” Aomine said with a casual wave. He walked onto the court fully dressed in his police uniform. “Sorry I’m late. I got held up.”

Kuroko looked around Aomine, thinking that there might have been a gravure magazine rolled up and tucked into the back of his pants, but there wasn’t. “So you really didn’t make a detour today.”

“You know, I don’t _always_ stop by the magazine shop.”

“But you usually do.”

Aomine swatted the comment away and opted for avoidance. “How are your kids doing?”

Kuroko dribbled the basketball up and down. “They’re fine. Some of them miss you.”

“Of course they would fucking miss me.” Aomine grinned. “Who doesn’t miss me when I leave?”

Kuroko would have personally said something to counter but then he remembered the truth in Aomine’s words. He did miss Aomine. He missed playing basketball with the miracles and even Seirin. In the end, he resolved to saying, “ _Some_ of the kids miss you. Not all, Aomine-kun.” 

By now, Aomine was king of the world with no fear. “Don’t worry. I’ll get them to like me eventually. Talk to your superiors and have them schedule another informational career session with the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. Doesn’t matter how far your daycare is, I’ll show those losers how great I am.”

Kuroko tossed the ball at Aomine, who easily caught it, and said, “They’re not losers, Aomine-kun. Please remember these are kids you’re talking about and you should be talking to them about your occupation."

Aomine ran past Kuroko and did a lay up shot. He dangled from the rims and swung his feet back and forth. “C’mon, Tetsu. You know what I meant. Figure of speech?”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Aomine-kun.”

“Serious as ever,” Aomine muttered as he leapt onto the ground. “How’s the countryside? Boring? Lots of insects, yes? Have you fallen into a ditch yet?”

Kuroko poised himself as he bent his knees to make a shot. “It’s nice and calming, very quiet unlike the city.”

“Geez. Someone’s acting like an old man already. We’re only 26, Tetsu. Slow down.” Aomine looked over his shoulder to see Kuroko’s shot bounce off the board and before it could hit the ground, Aomine caught it and slammed it into the net.

He spun around with an exhilarated grin on his face and arms spread out victoriously. The sight of Kuroko’s expression melted his grin away and he brushed past Kuroko to chase after the ball- another excuse for avoidance. “Don’t look at me like that, Tetsu.”

Kuroko listened to the fast rhythm of Aomine’s dribbling. “What do you mean?”

“C’mon, Tetsu. I know you’re not that dumb. Don’t lie to me.”

“You wouldn’t want me to say it, Aomine-kun.”

“Huh,” Aomine said as if the thought just crossed his mind for the first time. He spun the ball on a finger. “You’re right. I wouldn't."

Kuroko stepped in front of him and put the ball to a standstill with his hands. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t stop giving you the look.”

Aomine dropped the ball and sidestepped around Kuroko, stalking off to the other side of the court. “Well fuck. You might as well as just say it, Tetsu.”

Kuroko kept his distance but still followed after his former teammate. “Aomine-kun would only get upset if I did.”

Aomine whirled around, striking a fist at the wall. “Then tell me what is that you want, Tetsu! Don’t tell me this is about basketball!”

“It is.”

Aomine let out a laugh, something among the lines of frustration and disbelief, because Kuroko’s reply held no hesitation. It was firmly grounded in his conviction and of fucking course this was about basketball. It was always basketball, basketball, basketball. 

“Enlighten me, Tetsu.” The sarcastic streak was appearing in Aomine’s complexion. He flung his hands in the air. “Tell me you’ve developed some kind of magical time machine so I can go back in time and become the all-star you want me to be.”

“It’s not about that, Aomine-kun. I just-”

“It is about that, Tetsu! Don’t fuck with me. My decision to go professional or not was not the same as middle school shit. I didn’t base my decision off the idea that there wasn’t anyone worth playing against.”

Aomine ran a hand over his face and sighed exasperatedly. “Why are you still hung up over basketball and me? What is it that you can’t accept about this? You can’t change what I’ve done and I sure as hell do not regret becoming a cop.”

There really wasn’t an answer. Kuroko didn’t have one, not yet, not after the things Aomine had said. He had to take it in and mull over it and then, maybe, maybe he’d come to an answer.

“Y’know Tetsu,” Aomine said, his tone grave as if he was walking on a cracked surface. He gave Kuroko a sorry expression, uncertain of what to do and if he could do anything. “I think you’re really fucked.”

Kuroko felt the blood drain from his face. The pounding in his chest became painful with every new beat, gradually becoming heavier and heavier, and it didn’t cease until Aomine spoke again. “You’re stuck in the past. I don’t know what happened between you and Akashi, and I don’t know why you didn’t even try to go pro yourself, but that’s not a legit reason for you to project things onto me.”

Kuroko knew his lips parted to say something but nothing came out. The tight constriction in his throat rendered him incapable of denying. He wanted to tell Aomine that it wasn’t his intentions to project things onto him but he couldn’t because Aomine already started to leave.

“I don’t think we could have fun playing basketball with the mood like this, Tetsu.” Aomine grabbed his coat. “Bring Nigou with you next time you’re in Tokyo.”

The final look he gave Kuroko got Kuroko wondering if that was the same expression he regarded Aomine with: somber and ponderous, trying to understand something that one would never come to fully grasp.

… 

Kuroko returned home earlier than the time he told his mother he’d be back by. Aomine’s words were still heavy and fresh in his mind and when he encountered Nash sitting in one of the exterior hallways, he had an urge to turn the other way but then he noticed the photo album sitting in Nash’s lap. He was already moving towards Nash before he realized it, sinking onto his knees as he settled down beside the bodyguard. Nash didn’t say anything to Kuroko as he resumed flipping through the album, looking for a certain woman in every picture. Eventually Kuroko said something, almost as if he were confessing.

“I can’t protect you.”

“That’s old news.”

“How do I get rid of you?” Kuroko asked.

Nash shifted his body to scrutinize Kuroko. His face didn’t show anything but his voice betrayed his amusement. “Seems like someone’s finally breaking.”

“I don’t like you and I don’t trust you.”

“The feeling’s mutual. We confirmed that last night, so what’s the deal with the repetition?”

Kuroko leaned back, pressing his palms to the floor, and stared out into the courtyard. He decided for honesty, thinking that Nash wouldn’t really comprehend anyways since he didn’t know the context of Kuroko’s words. “I’m not who I thought I was.”

“Gee, that’s so profound.” Nash closed the album. “I’m glad I get to witness you break down. You monkeys aren’t as great as you think you are.”

“Knowing that now, will you leave me in peace, Gold-kun?”

“Unfortunately Boss placed me in your cowardly hands so until things are cleaned up, I’m stuck with you.”

Kuroko laid flat on his back. “And what are the things that need to be cleaned up?”

“Talk to Boss.”

“He’s going to tell me to ask you. I know he will.”

Nash shrugged. “Can’t help you then.”

“Why not?”

“Why ask a coward to do something?”

Kuroko didn’t respond. He simply shut his eyes and retreated back to his thoughts, causing Nash to say something in return. “This is where you say: touché.”

Kuroko waved him off before he could say more. His thoughts were already enough and the silence after Nash’s departure was more than he wanted.


End file.
